


No Time For Rising Stars

by appending_fic



Series: Self Determination [7]
Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Final Battle, Human Sacrifice, Magic, Magical Theory, Multi, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:49:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22837318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appending_fic/pseuds/appending_fic
Summary: All this - the Trollhunter, Gumm-Gumms, Order of Dawn, Janus Order, and Morgana herself - has been the backdrop to this, the final confrontation with a demon who once tore the stars from the sky.There is no creature who can match his power, none who have mastered more spells than him.And all that stands between him and his final victory is Barbara Lake.
Relationships: Jim Lake Jr. (Tales of Arcadia)/Original Character(s)
Series: Self Determination [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1098282
Comments: 16
Kudos: 19





	No Time For Rising Stars

"No living creature is yet a threat to you, but there will be a child of air and darkness whose line will commingle with that of kings."

_Look, I'd just like to know if my father is King Arthur, because Jim's dating Mordred Pendragon…_

"Their blood will rouse and bind your enemies to a common cause, to be the arrowhead of your doom."

_And Jim - well, she wasn't so sure...that it was a coincidence they kept gathering allies. A boy-king uniting human and troll against a common enemy sounded almost mythic._

"Know this, Myrddin Wyllt - what you have sought to destroy will time and again rise against you, and even in their failure weaken you."

_All will die, but Death may relinquish her grasp. You may walk the Earth again, Mordred Pendragon - for the second and last time._

_Morgana le Fay, driven by her rage at Merlin, sustained by the Blood Mages she kills along the way…_

_You destroy a horde of Fearlings with half your blood gone, well. There's only one outcome._

"Your legacy alone can be your end, o sorcerer…"

_Fighting Merlin with Blood Magic felt skeevy, with possibly the exception of Steve's phylactery and the Eclipse Gauntlet, because using the corpse of a Nazi to fight evil felt right, and Morgana would appreciate her remains being used to kill Merlin._

_I learned - he needed a changeling to be the Trollhunter, that he wanted me._

_The actual kid who Merlin conned into being the last Trollhunter is leading the ragtag group of outcasts trying to kill the bastard._

_"My father," Barbara said evenly. "Merlin."_

"Though it shall neither be by dawn nor midnight, eclipse nor noon."

_For the doom of Merlin, Twilight is mine to command!_

* * *

Barbara wasn't certain when she'd sank to her knees next to Jim, but she placed the Amulet of Twilight on his chest as she stood. Whatever magic Merlin had set in motion was humming along, no longer draining against her. And it seemed right that Jim have the amulet, even in death.

"So it is down to you, and it is down to me," Merlin said. There was something - a tone in his voice, a look in his eyes - that seemed insufferably smug (or maybe Barbara was just looking for something to be angry about, and Lord knew Merlin was a convenient target).

"You never heard Tsar Lunar's prophecy, did you?" Barbara asked, stepping away from Jim's body and toward Merlin. The air around him was distorted, like the heated air above pavement. Staring too long left afterimages of unfamiliar runes in Barbara's vision, and Merlin's movements were slow as he turned to watch her. There was no denying he'd gained something immeasurable from his casual murder of...well, she didn't know how many people, but she doubted it ended at the borders of Arcadia Oaks.

"I don't think it matters now," Merlin said.

"Hm," Barbara replied. "The Lunar knew how stories go - how they _end_. And they knew someone like you...wouldn't die easily. But they knew you _would_. That in stories about people like you, the villain must be allowed a moment of triumph before they are defeated."

"Defeated?" Merlin scoffed. "I have bound _trillions_ of souls to my whim to ascend beyond what any mortal is capable! **I am invincible**!"

" _ **Wrong**_!" Barbara snapped. "They said that when three men who'd died twice gathered against you, you would fall at last. I knew then what that would mean, and I tried to keep this from happening. But I know why, now, these second deaths herald your end. In order for us to reach this point, you would have to kill **my son**. You would have to incur _my wrath_." She drew Excalibur from the scabbard at her side, and Merlin laughed.

"Excalibur? Such tools are _toys_ in any hand except their chosen bearers, and the Pendragons are dead!" Indeed, his own allies, including Arthur, lay still on the battlefield, only the risen dead gathered around him.

"The Pendragons aren't the rightful owners of Excalibur," Barbara said. "Nimue, the Lady of the Lake, is. It is the legacy she passed on to her descendants." 

And Barbara dashed forward, cleaving through a zombie as it tried to intercept her before she could reach Merlin. As it had once before, Excalibur seemed to pull Barbara forward, rather than requiring her conscious thought to wield it. So she all but danced as she fought her way through the unquiet dead, Merlin's final guardians.

"So, she has sent a child to fight me, rather than face me herself?" Merlin asked. "She underestimated me before, hoping to trap me in Avalon."

"Sent me?" Barbara asked. "No. Jim and I chose to fight you of our own choice. After all, Excalibur may be Nimue's legacy, but **we are yours**!"

"You would say my every enemy is my legacy?" Merlin shouted as Barbara bisected two skeletons with one swing. "Very well - I will accept that my legacy has ensured my victory!"

"No," Barbara said. "I am your legacy for a simple, biological reason. I am your **daughter**." And she burst through the final line of defense and charged at Merlin, Excalibur raised.

* * *

Something strange was happening in the hospital. For a moment, Edith Flores had felt a beat, a shift in her perception she was worried was an earthquake, or a stroke. But then the world was normal again. The doctors, some of the other nurses, had spent the last hour muttering over something that had happened on television - the President made an announcement, or a threat, the exact details of which Edith was too busy to gather. 

And then the whispering started. A voice in a language Edith had never heard, whispering at the edge of hearing. It seemed to fill every hallway, every room, and around her, others were growing visibly uneasy.

_In any case, you seem to have a talent for the art, and if there were any question, your Masterwork would put them to rest._

Edith stopped at Mr. Khaled's room - the man had suffered a stroke some year ago, and was still mostly insensible. And it was there she saw it. Strange symbols crawling along the windowsill, and sparks dancing along the glass on the outside.

And then Mr. Khaled's eyes snapped open. Hazel, amber glittering in green, they turned to her.

"Can you feel it?" he asked.

"Mr. Khaled-"

"Death is coming for us," Mr. Khaled said. "But life - life is standing in its way."

_And that is discounting the other enchantments you wove into them. Negating the power of any deliberate sacrifice made within those bounds - a brilliant tactic to keep it out of the hands of the more ruthless sort of Blood Mage._

Masterworks were the pride of any master mage. They were a sign of their mastery of their art, representing the investiture of immeasurable resources, magical and mundane alike. And as a result, few master mages would risk their masterwork in contention against another.

In most such cases, each mage would seek to apply their masterwork's own specialty against the other, until they found a weakness against which the other had no defense.

But in the rare case that two masters contended against one another, each in magic of similar nature (of equal and opposite nature), the victory would depend on many factors. Relative power, was one, but so too would skill.

To call one a master, one needed _mastery_ of their art, to know the ways of it, the limitations, and how those may be pushed.

But to _understand_ a magical art, to comprehend the rules governing it, how they may be _leveraged_ , rather than bent…

One would have earned the right to call themselves **Archmage** , and no mere masterwork could contend with them.

Merlin was a master runesmith and a master Blood Mage, and had built a network of runes that would kill everything they touched and absorb that power to fuel his ascension. It had never occurred to him that there was anything anyone could do to stop him.

Barbara Lake had known mages, Blood Mages in particular, to be crafty and tricky, and so when she wove her spells within Arcadia Oaks' hospital, the runes to whisper words to sustain life, to fuel it by the death inevitable to a hospital, she built a particular defense. That not only could no other Blood Mage steal the power of those who died in the hospital, but, because she covered all her bases, that _magic could not kill there_ , either.

She had made an oversight, one she did not consider as such, because her system was constructed to be self-contained - a closed network. She had learned, toward the end, some aspect of this flaw, that the spell was indiscriminate, binding all available energy to its task.

But the system was closed.

Until Merlin's masterwork struck it - a spell reaching across the known universe, tearing the souls of millions from their bodies to generate the power to fuel his single master rune.

And because Barbara's magic was more carefully constructed, more skillfully made, when it touched this network, it seized it. With all the power flowing through it, the whispering voices were multiplied a trillionfold, a shout that shook whole worlds.

 **You will be well** , the voices said. And the soul _wants_ to be within the body; it is the very nature of living. The body _wants_ to live.

Barbara's spell did not reserve any power; that was not its nature. And so everything invested in Merlin's masterwork was turned back into a single, life-affirming shout.

 **You will live**.

* * *

Darci fumbled for leverage as she climbed from the floor of the Moon Palace's engine room. She'd come down here to brainstorm once it became clear staring at the battle outside wasn't going to help. Her hand slipped as it ran across a depression in the console, a slot ridged with odd protrusions.

She scowled at the great engine, something that they could _use_ if she could just figure out how to turn it on!

With their luck, there was some ancient artifact buried in Atlantis or some shit needed to get this place running-

Wait.

Darci examined the slot in the console, no wider than a handspan, but deep, odd reflections from the ridges within.

Resolving it couldn't make things much worse, Darci drew the Sword Unbreakable and slammed it into the slot.

* * *

Morando pushed himself up against the main control console. Around him, the other members of the crew moved more slowly (foolish, weak! If this had been his invasion, Morando would have ensured only the strongest come along). Whatever had happened hadn't harmed the autopilot, so neither the fleet nor the fighters had crashed.

But the pilots were likely still confused, scrambling for guidance. They needed a commander now, more than ever.

And then, against the deepening dusk, the moon flared to life, a thousand candles glowing along its surface.

No, Morando thought, as the candles lengthened and burst out with pure white contrails. Not candles.

"That's no moon," he muttered to himself. "It's a planetary defense grid."

His serrator flared to life as he cut through the radio bulkhead.

And turned to find the communications office, while the moon rained death down upon his fleet.

* * *

Mary scrambled to her feet; for a moment, she couldn't place herself, wondering if she'd fallen asleep studying. But then she remembered (light flaring along the length of the Staff of Avalon), and turned to where she'd last seen the wizard.

He was fighting Dr. Lake, turning aside a strike of Excalibur with the Staff (it _couldn't_ be his grail, if he'd let an orichalcum blade touch it). Behind him, unnoticed, a figure topped with pale hair rose, another blade flickering to life as she slammed it forward.

Merlin turned, at the last moment, but not soon enough. The gem at his throat shattered, and Aja's sword must have cut him, because blood ran down from the wound.

" **Enough**!" Merlin screamed, slamming the Staff of Avalon's end down on the ground; the staff flickered, edged with red light, and an explosion of force sent his assailants flying backward. He raised his free hand to his throat, sealing off the wound. Aja threw herself forward, slamming into a barrier twenty feet away from Merlin before falling back and trying again.

(The staff wasn't the key, wasn't the grail, but was _tied_ to it somehow, a connection between Merlin and his accumulated power. Fuck, Mary needed a _nerd_ on this.)

"We've got confirmation! Target the wizard!"

Merlin snapped his head around as a hail of gunfire ricocheted off of some invisible barrier (and thank god Steve hadn't wasted their like three orichalcum bullets trying to shoot the guy). _Somehow_ , the army had gotten the memo, although they seemed to think if they shot Merlin _enough_ , his anti-bullet shield might stop working, so it wasn't exactly a step up, tactically.

"I tire of this," Merlin said, like every fucking cliched villain _ever_ , like he'd taken _notes_ , and waved his staff in a wide semi-circle. The bullets stopped ricocheting, and simply turned _back_ on the soldiers.

God damn it, Mary needed some sort of consultation.

She pulled out her phone.

* * *

"Okay," Jim said, closing his eyes, offering a silent apology to Toby, his mother, _Mordred_. "I'll do it."

"Idiot," Karl said, "I don't need you to offer yourself up. From what I've seen of you, you don't care enough for your own well being to be worth _one_ life, much less a hundred and eight. No, I don't need your sacrifice; I need your _permission_. The Amulet is bound to you, and as such, I cannot destroy it without your allowance."

"I." Jim turned to Emily Jane, hands shaking, heart racing because he thought this was _it_ \- that he'd finally made the sacrifice he'd expected to have to make since the beginning. "Is that-"

"I won't take you, Jim," Emily Jane said, shaking her head. "Not in trade. But if you release him-"

" _Why_?" Jim blurted to Karl. "You're an - evil fascist wizard, and you're dead anyway!"

"There has been enough debate about the morality of my actions, and that of the Order of Dawn, that I am not eager to discover what might lie beyond the Veil," Karl replied. "And in any case, Merlin manipulated _us_ as much as he did the Trollhunter. I would take great satisfaction in knowing my sacrifice made him suffer."

"If you're sure," Jim said, slowly. "Then okay."

* * *

When Mordred stumbled to his feet, his first instinct had been to run to Jim's side - the Amulet rested on his chest, still even though other people were rising from the battlefield (something had happened, something _big_ , even if he couldn't put his finger on it).

But then Mordred nearly tripped over another body and paused, looking down. Skin a few shades darker than his own, more angular, more _human_ , hair greyed and face lined from worry.

He half-knelt, one hand moving to his father's chest, which was rising and falling evenly. "Dad," he murmured. "I'm sorry. I thought - Merlin said it was the only way to keep Mom in check, if she ever...I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for _any_ of this to happen. But. It's _me_ \- it really is. It's impossible, a _miracle_ , but it is. Jim - the troll with the Sword of Twilight - did the whole 'Orpheus' thing to buy me back from Death. And he's - amazing, really. Not a warrior, not at heart, but he keeps going back into the fray."

"Heh." 

Mordred scrambled back at his father's voice, hand up to defend himself if Arthur tried to use that blood-red sword again.

But his father only rose unsteady so he was sitting, perched on one arm, a wobbly smile on his face, eyes glimmering, wet. "You always had a thing for the...soft-hearted ones. I remember that one squire, that one who kept six cats because he couldn't bear to tell them to leave. You…"

"I had no idea how to talk to him, so you tried to do it for me," Mordred completed.

And Arthur laughed, no more than a quiet chuckle, but a sound that shook Mordred to his core, something bubbling up in him, a laugh or sob that broke out into a sound that could have been either. Because this was an impossible moment, another miracle to a line of things Mordred didn't deserve, to see the father he'd unwittingly betrayed.

"Dad. Merlin-"

And the humor vanished from Arthur's expression. "Yes," he said. "I know. Do you think that sorceress would lend me Excalibur?"

Mordred opened his mouth to respond when the battlefield shook. No one else seemed to notice, even when the world shook again.

No - not no one. Dr. Lake, Claire, and Nicholas paused, looking toward…

Jim. Red light was spilling from the Amulet of Twilight, which shook and twitched and - _cracked_. It exploded, then, into a cloud of red smoke, and Mordred thought he saw, for a moment, the tiny shard of orichalcum at the heart of it, fragments breaking away as the smoke enveloped it.

"Jim?" Mordred scrambled to his feet, uncertain _what_ was happening except he needed to protect Jim-

"Hey, slow down. There'll be plenty of time for post-battle makeouts once this asshole wizard is dead." And Mordred stopped, not just because of the hand on his chest, but the _voice_. Calm, even, filled with good humor even though this was a _battle_.

And when Mordred looked up (and he _had_ to look up), a man, hair greying, face lined, like Mordred's own father, stood there. But the hair was sandy, unkempt, the way Mordred remembered, and the eyes bright, blue, and the smile-

"Gawain?"

"Hey, little brother," Gawain said. "I cannot believe the trouble you got yourself into - need your big brother to get you out of it, huh?"

"I-"

"We do _not_ have time for this," another voice muttered, and a woman, round-faced, dark, dressed in a modest, concealing set of wrappings, stepped forward, a sword held at the ready - long, dark, and filled with stars. "We've got a **day** , but I don't trust the bastard to make this take that long just to spite us."

Gawain gasped, raising one hand to his chest. " _Swearing_? Tiffany, I'm _shocked_!"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Can we stay on task and make a _plan_ , here?"

"What - what's going on?" Mordred stammered.

"The spirit inside the Amulet," Jim's voice said from the mist, before he stepped from it. "He offered himself up to Death to return the past Trollhunters to life for one day." He held up the Amulet, which was cracked, the metal half-melted, the light within it dead.

"Well, except for _Georg_ ," Gawain said. "Waste of space, that one."

"But there _is_ one good point," Tiffany said. "A present, I think, from Death." She raised her sword, grinning. "We've got some _weapons_ , so we can carve Merlin up like a Christmas turkey."

"You don't even _celebrate_ Christmas!" Gawain protested, smirking.

"Shut the fuck up, we've got a wizard to cut to pieces!"

* * *

"Hey! Step away from the car and put your hands up!" Frederick ignored the soldier's shouting; he had a good feel for when someone with a gun was going to start shooting, and the soldier wasn't there yet. He eyed the military complex carefully, before giving a decisive nod.

Fort Meade. Close enough for Merlin to get to if he was needed on short notice, secure enough to keep someone in one place, and staffed by people under the direct control of one of his lackeys.

"Hey!" the soldier shouted.

And Frederick turned to him. It wasn't quite dark yet, but there wasn't a changeling alive who hadn't perfected the trick of making their smiles look vicious, predatory. "Heyyyyy," he said, a long drawl. "I'm going to give you one chance, here. You've got a woman locked up somewhere around here. Name's April Franklin. You're going to let her go."

The soldier hefted his gun, training it on Frederick. "You are to leave this base immed-"

And Frederick sliced the gun into three pieces. Darwin had been kind enough to give Frederick what amounted to a full suit of gold - impossible to carry, if Frederick couldn't lighten the load with his talent. He lifted the suit, and himself, from the ground and drifted close to the soldier as he extended whips of gold from his shoulders, a show of force he hoped they were getting on the cameras.

Frederick widened his smile. "I said one chance," he said. "So how about you get your commanding officer on the radio, and see what _they_ have to say about it?"

* * *

Merlin was out there. Seamus' father had dragged him down to their fallout shelter when Merlin had made the announcement, and they'd been getting spotty radio reception with scattered updates. China had launched nuclear missiles, but they'd been shot down. Alien craft attacking the Chinese military, attacking _everyone_. Congress had removed practically Merlin's entire cabinet from office, but the Joint Chiefs had barricaded themselves in the White House, and the military was still running a blockade around Arcadia Oaks.

Seamus knew more than the radio was saying. Krel and Aja were out there, trying to kill the man who'd destroyed their home. Shannon and her new werewolf buddies were fighting Merlin, and Jim and Toby and Claire and all the others were there, too.

Everyone Seamus knew was fighting Merlin, and Seamus was stuck down here.

They'd blacked out for a moment, and awoke to find - the alien fleet was being attacked **by the moon**.

And then Seamus' phone rang.

Seamus glanced at his father, who was riveted to the radio, and the sporadic news, including the fact the Capitol Police had finally gotten inside the White House, where they'd found at least a dozen people dead, including the Vice President and Secretary of Defense…

"Hello?"

" _Thank god_!" Mary's voice breathed. "I have been trying to call people for like _ten minutes_!" There was a scream in the background, and a voice rising in a chant in some arcane tongue.

"What - where are you?" Seamus asked.

" _Where do you think_?" Mary retorted. "Okay, I need some prime nerd shit here, okay?"

"Nerd...like Star Trek?"

"No, like, actual fucking advice!" Mary snapped. The connection crackled and died. Seamus checked his phone, finding the call had ended.

"Son?" Seamus' dad asked. "What are you-"

Seamus' phone rang again. "Just a second, this is important. Hello?"

"Sorry - Merlin pulled out this high-level antimagic bullshit that fucked with my signal," Mary said. "So. What - would you need to do if you were creating a new computer language?"

"I...what does this have to do with Merlin?"

"I don't know yet," Mary said. "Just - like, if I've got a computer, how could I make a new computer language work on it?"

"You'd...need a compiler," Seamus said slowly. "A thing that like, translates the code into your directions, and machine code."

"And...it won't work any place you don't have a compiler," Mary said. "Right?"

"More or less-"

"Okay. Good. Great. _Thank_ you," Mary said. "You may have possibly saved the entire universe, so, you know. Kudos." And the phone went dead.

"Seamus, what was that?"

"I...have no idea."

* * *

Barbara wasn't used to this, trying to formulate spells in a hurry. Her fingers kept fumbling, her focus slipping, even now that they were down to just _one_ target. The problem was that target was Merlin, the archetypal wizard. Like Clyde Palchuk, he could cast Light Magic spells without any word or gesture, amplifying them with the Blood Magic available to him. There were runes painted on his skin, carved into his staff, defenses activated every time someone got through his more active defenses (including a bubble that seemed to keep any living creature from getting too close). Without having to expend too much thought or energy into his Light Magic, he was able to pump subtle magics into the air around him - the first, a terrifying aura that washed across anyone he looked at.

All problems they could get through if they dared risk Eli taking dragon form.

The army turning on Merlin helped, if only to soak up more of his attention, as well as whatever Mordred had said to convince his father they were on the same side; his lifetime of practice with a blade made his use of Excalibur substantially more productive than Barbara's. And seeing as Jim was fine, she wasn't going to worry about whatever they'd had to give up to get the hundred or so Trollhunters on the field. That, more than anything, kept Merlin occupied. He disintegrated one Trollhunter with a line of green light, caused another's body to explode with flame that took out the three nearest warriors (and what did they care? they'd died once, and this was their chance to take vengeance on the man who had betrayed the very cause he'd asked of them). But there were a hundred of them, hardened warriors each.

"Heyyyyy, Dr. Lake." Toby bounced down next to Barbara's perch, grinning. "Having fun?" 

"You're not high, are you?" Barbara asked.

"What? _No_! I'm just…" Toby's smile faded a little as he looked to Merlin. "He already did his big thing, Dr. Lake, and it didn't help. It doesn't matter how many of us he kills in the process - we're going to _win_." He stood up, cracking his neck. "Anyway, we're working on a plan to finish this. Step one: get that stupid staff off of his."

"How are you going to do that when you can't even get close to him?" Barbara demanded.

Toby grinned. "Come _on_ , Dr. Lake. I thought you'd remember. Alley…" He dropped both hands, palms up, as he rooted himself in place. "OOP!"

The ground around Merlin buckled, grass and earth hurled skyward. His staff flared bright as Merlin rooted his feet, turning toward them, bringing the awful flare of fear. Behind him, a small shape rippled and changed, growing into a massive reptilian form. Eli winced, body shuddering, before he took a deep breath. And Merlin turned, the stone atop the Staff of Avalon gleaming as he applied his will, the power of the Orb of Dragonkind, toward their friend.

And then Aaarrrgghh, rolling around to Merlin's side, stopped just outside the twenty-foot range that protected Merlin from any approach, and hurled something at him. A cloth, wet and stained dark, struck Merlin's face, and in that moment, Aaarrrgghh charged forward, bursting through the perimeter that had once stood between him and Merlin. Merlin was reaching up to wipe away the blood smeared on his face when Aaarrrgghh broke into his personal space and grabbed the Staff of Avalon. 

And then he was rolling out of the way, even as Merlin snapped a hand out. Grass died within the few feet closest to Merlin, a sure sign that if Aaarrrgghh hadn't beat a hasty retreat, he might have died (for a third time). 

As Aaarrrgghh pulled out of his roll, a sharp 'pop' cut through the field, and the crystal tied to the Staff of Avalon exploded into shards that fell from it. Aaarrrgghh didn't even flinch as he brought the staff down over his knee, snapping it.

And Merlin laughed.

"Is that - did you think that was it?" he asked. "That the Staff of Avalon was my grail? That by destroying it, you would defeat me? Cause me to shrivel up and _die_?" He raised a hand, and his image - stuttered, like a film reel skipping. "I am Myrddin Wyllt, archmage of the highest order. There was no match for my power five billion years ago, and there is no match for my power _now_." Four flaming spheres crashed to earth around him, stone and fire engulfing the space around him. A wail cut through the air around him, sending a handful of people dropping to their knees.

A crackling voice called over the battlefield. "Of course your staff isn't the source of your power," Mary shouted.

"It's _Light Magic_."

Merlin whirled, one hand reaching out. Something, like a construct of air, launched from his hand, grabbing at Mary. A massive clawed paw sliced through the hand, a golden-scaled dragon rending the spell.

Mary, undeterred, continued shouting. "He was an ordinary Blood Mage, once, with a gem or a ring or whatever as his grail. But he must have realized what would happen if he became _Merlin_. Everyone would look for his grail, the key to his power, to destroy him. He needed a grail that no one would ever find, a grail no one would destroy even if they could find it, a grail no one would even think they _could_ destroy."

The air next to Mary tore open, and for a moment, a single gleaming eye, ten feet tall, burning with blinding blue light, could be seen. Petrifying cold poured from the aperture, if the frost gathering on the grass near it was any sign. A hand passed through, reaching for Mary, only for Bular to slam into it, struggling to wrench it aside.

Barbara frowned; she would have listened to Mary regardless, knowing how much the girl had invested in studying Merlin, trying to discover his weakness. But seeing what Merlin was throwing at Mary to keep her from continuing, Barbara was certain there was nothing more important that what Mary was saying.

"You had the Philosopher's Stone, which touches every point of the universe at once, and the power of a billion lives, at your disposal. So you built a - machine. A construct. A _compiler_. Instead of mastering their will, intention, and strength of spirit, a person could say the right words, make the right gesture, and get a result out. And unless you understood something like - computer programming - you'd never realize there was anything there. And there were other benefits. Your grail was _everywhere_ , so you would never be far from it. It would be easy to capture energy from other people, no matter where they were."

"So **what**?" Merlin retorted. "That power isn't bound in the Staff of Avalon - a useful conduit, at best. _No one_ possesses the power to unmake it - my _true_ masterwork!"

That was wrong, Barbara thought to herself, hand tightening around the stone Emily Jane had made for her. Barbara had the power.

But she didn't know the spell she'd need to destroy Light Magic - destroy the construct, the compiler that gathered energy from every death, using it to make magic accessible to the common person.

There was a sound like breaking glass, a shout from Aja, and laughter from Merlin. "Did you hope to destroy me with _toys_ like this?"

There wouldn't be a spell to destroy Merlin's grail - not in any of the five disciplines Barbara was familiar with. 

It would take Celestial Magic.

But none of them could use Celestial Magic - nothing beyond a few simple phrases.

So maybe if Barbara just tried to - piece it together. Understand how the construct was made, she could dismantle it.

A storm rose around Merlin, howling winds that sent people stumbling back away from him.

The compiler must have been a complex network of runes powered by Blood Magic, tied to the ambient energy of the universe, likely relying on some sort of mangled Draconic dictionary to channel word to action…

Lightning danced from Merlin's hands.

There had to be Celestial Magic in there somewhere, some aspect of deeper power directing the Compiler, but Barbara couldn't see how. She couldn't understand-

Oh.

 _ **Oh**_.

Merlin had gathered artifacts to himself - stones and charms, and insight granted by gods and demons - to master magic. He was powerful because he knew a large number of spells, because he could string them together to destroy whole armies.

He hadn't _studied_ magic, the way someone would study physics, or chemistry. He hadn't experimented, tweaking a spell he'd cobbled together to find the flaws and weaknesses, the underlying logic.

He didn't _understand_ anything about magic.

 _Not the way Barbara did_.

There wasn't a spell that could unmake Merlin's grail. There - wasn't really such a thing as a 'spell' to begin with. There was just power and intention - energy and will.

And Barbara held in her hand a grail made by the sacrifices of people who'd given themselves freely on Death's claim that a wicked sorcerer wished ill on those who still lived. And Barbara could see it, the threads of Light Magic woven into the world around her. 

And Barbara wanted nothing more to see Merlin gone - for her son to live in a world free of his influence.

She heard a shouted word, the incantation of a spell Merlin couldn't empower even with his gathered sacrifices.

And-

Barbara spared a fraction of her attention toward the source of the shout. She could almost _see_ it, a mass of power tied in a complex knot. As the spell reached her, Barbara stretched a hand out and tugged at the threads (this was a lie. She didn't move her hand. She didn't touch the magic. But there was a pattern to the spell, and Barbara could see how it was formed, and how to make it fall apart).

And as the magic unraveled, she saw it - the faint tracery of a construct visible in the air around her. 

The compiler - Merlin's grail.

It may have been Merlin's masterwork, and the basis of his power, but its flaws were obvious - a tool hacked together from five disparate schools of magic. A delicate balancing act, a dozen forces competing against each other.

It was almost easier to dismantle _this_ than a well-constructed spell.

Of course, the _power_ required was beyond almost anyone's reach, but given that Barbara had it, all it took was one short shock, a jab in the right place.

And.

The few times she'd met Merlin before he'd revealed his true colors, Barbara hadn't been impressed. She'd wondered, vaguely, if he was some sort of charlatan.

And now she could be certain.

Merlin was impossibly intelligent, had millions, _billions_ of years of study to perfect his knowledge of every school of magic.

But it was a house of cards, built on the power he'd gathered over the course of countless millennia, power he'd done everything in his power to hoard, to gather rather than spend.

And now it came tumbling down.

* * *

Magic roared from Merlin, streaking toward Jim's mom; he might have screamed, or just stood in shocked silence, knowing there was nothing he could do.

And then there wasn't magic anymore.

Merlin narrowed his eyes, throwing aside Gawain as the first Trollhunter tried to take his right hand off. He raised his other hand, and-

Something happened.

Jim didn't have words for it, except that he felt it in his - not quite his heart, but his chest nonetheless.

"Did you feel that?" Mordred was hovering close, even though Merlin was barely paying the two of them any attention (Merlin was sparing some actual attention toward _Toby_ , who'd been central to getting the Orb of Dragonkind far enough out of Merlin's defenses for Steve to destroy it, and Claire, who had caught some second wind, teleporting her and Toby out of the reach of Merlin's assaults when Toby's defenses failed). It was unnecessary, but it warmed Jim, anyway. Toby would do that, or Jim's mom. But so too would Mordred, it seemed.

("I like you quite a lot," Mordred had said. Jim wondered if it was more than that. He wasn't sure about his own feelings, but they felt _big_. It was hard to sort out friendship and romance and - attraction in this sort of situation, but for the first time in months, Jim believed he would have the time to figure it out.)

"Feel what?" Jim asked.

"A - _burst_ of power. Not magic, but raw - _force_. Untamed, Unshaped."

"This ends **now**!" Merlin shouted, hands flicking through complex positions, voice rising-

And nothing happened.

"It _does_ end now," Jim's mom echoed. "Your grail is gone, and with it your magic."

Mordred mouthed those words, silent, and Jim found his mind reeling at the thought. Mary had said Merlin's grail was - a universe-spanning _construct_ \- had his mother really _destroyed_ it?

"You forget I am a master of-"

"You can use runes and Shadow Magic and you know a few words of Draconic and Celestial," Jim's mom continued. "But you prefer Light Magic. It doesn't require any creativity. Any _imagination_. Because in the end, that's your fatal flaw. All this power, and the best you could do with it is ascend to godhood."

And Merlin _roared_ in response, his fury giving shape to something horrific, fear and anger rising into a blinding winged form-

Which vanished.

"You have committed treason against me and my kingdom." Arthur, perhaps taking advantage of Merlin's distraction, or perhaps having trusted Jim's mom to protect them all, stood behind Merlin, Excalibur pulled back for a swing. "You have committed blasphemy, aspiring to godhood, among innumerable other crimes. There may be more fitting punishments, but it is my duty to see the threat of your existence is _ended_."

Jim jerked his head away before Arthur could strike, because it had never gotten easier, witnessing death, no matter how much the death was deserved. There was a hand on his shoulder, and a moment later, one on his cheek. 

"You can look," Mordred said. "It's over."

"Really?" Jim felt a smile tug at his lips. Because if it was over - he'd lost no one else. He'd survived this, made no sacrifice except for his selfish desire to see Mordred in the flesh.

"Yeah. We won."

Jim's eyes flicked open, and the first thing he saw was Mordred's steady gaze, his gentle smile focused on Jim. And beyond him-

King Arthur, kneeling before Jim's mother, offered her back Excalibur. Toby's arms were lifted over his head as he gave a "BOOYAH" of victory. And the others of their gang, exhausted, some bloodied, bruised, but _alive_.

"We won," Jim murmured, the last impossibility of the day, as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, and twilight came to an end.


End file.
